


You May Now Kiss The Braid

by EternalSailorNeptune_53



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Gen, He's the Ultimate Roboticist in this case, Human K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), It's like a pretend one, Just let them be (normal) Ultimate students; gdi; is that so much to ask for, Kiyo wears a dress and fucking rocks it, M/M, Still a strong advocate for #RobotRights and will not stand for your robophobia plz and ty, Weddings, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSailorNeptune_53/pseuds/EternalSailorNeptune_53
Summary: Based off/Inspired by this post: https://himiko-yumehellno.tumblr.com/post/186966069097/kokichi-to-korekiyo-ive-braided-your-hair-nowIt all started with Kiyo's hair, and leave it to Ouma to take advantage of that to pull him into his latest scheme. Unlike most he's pulled in the past, however, it's surprisingly harmless and ends up getting more than just them involved with it. And all within three short days, too.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Oma Kokichi & Shinguji Korekiyo, Oma Kokichi/Shinguji Korekiyo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 79





	You May Now Kiss The Braid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puffinmuffin13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puffinmuffin13/gifts).



> I was literally given an inch by an old post I saw on the Tumblr-dot-com™, and here I am taking a whole-ass continent just to have an excuse to write my bizarre OTP. This one's pretty darn lengthy for a oneshot, but still has lots of oddly wholesome goodness waiting to be read. All of these fine V3 peeps (yes, Tsumugi also despite the fact that I can't stand her) deserve normal lives, so gdi, I'm gonna give it to them or so help me God.
> 
> Enough rambling from that, I've got nothing left to say, so I hope you enjoy this little doo-dad I put together. I was going to write about something completely different with the cast, but I think this turned out a little better than that might have. Maybe I'll write that after all, but I'm not making any promises I can't be sure I'll keep. Have fun and Happy Reading! ♥

“Marry me.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

“You have to! See?”

“The justification for being wed has to do with… my hair?”

“Duh! I’ve braided your hair; now you have to marry me.”

Correlation absolutely equaled no causation, but for Korekiyo to tell Ouma that at this point would be at worst foolhardy and at best moot. He wasn’t even completely sure what led up to their current predicament save for the small intruder badgering himself inside his dorm and managing to convince (or rather, pester) him hard enough to have a little fun with flows of silky hair. Promises made to his mind and a few minutes of sitting later, Korekiyo became hatless with a new French braid interwoven with smaller ones hanging against his spine.

How he could possibly believe Ouma would let such a simple task remain that way was beyond even his comprehension.

“I know of many marriage customs from varying cultures. Braiding one’s hair a proposal does not make,” Korekiyo explained.

“I still popped the question, so it counts,” Ouma argued.

“Less so and more you demanded such, so no, it doesn’t.”

“Why not?! It’s not even a real wedding, obviously! After it’s over, I’d be happy to let you annul it like it didn’t happen. I’ll stage a grand break-up and everything.”

“I’d prefer the separation amicable and not over-the-top.”

“Can’t promise that. Besides, this would be a great fieldwork exercise for you. Kinda like… being in the experiment and seeing it up close and personal.”

Now Kiyo was intrigued, a curled finger to the layer of black mask covering his chin. “Would you happen to be referring to participant observation?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, that thing you just said. You get to experience a wedding custom yourself for a whole new experience, but without all the mushy, gushy, boring marriage stuff that comes after! It’d be a win-win, don’tcha think?”

In a very strange way… it actually would. Experience was always the best teacher next to observation, especially when it came to anthropology. And, since no real vows would come of the ceremony, he had nothing to lose or pay for because of it, either. Just an entertaining learning experience meant to aid in the research of one and satisfy the antics of the other.

“...A reasonable exchange,” Korekiyo agreed.

“Yay! Kiyo-chan’s gonna be my bride!” Ouma cheered. “Ceremony’s gonna be in three days and so great, you won’t wanna have another one.”

“We’ll certainly have to see if you live up to such a boast, now won’t we?”

“Trust me, we will. And! Here’s a little something to seal the deal.” Taking one of Korekiyo’s bandaged hands, Ouma slipped a metal ring with a gem almost like an opal, but with a more colorful array blending in the center. “There! Now, it’s official!”

“Using a mood ring?”

“The real deal will be ten times cooler. Besides, now I can see you’re…” Ouma took out a piece of paper, looking at the decoder for all possible colors on the ring. “‘Romance’! I knew you couldn’t hide your true feelings from me.”

Kiyo took his own glimpse at the paper to Ouma’s dismay. "Green signifies ‘mixed emotions’. A more realistic result, is it not?”

“Bah! That’s just the cold feet talking! You’ll get over it.”

“May I fix my hair now? You’ve gotten what you wanted.”

“No way! It’s another engagement sign. Keep it like that until you’re getting ready for the wedding. Then, you can change it to your heart’s desire!”

“For three whole days? Kokichi, that’s detrimental to anyone’s follicles, and I’d prefer—”

“—UWAAAAAAAAHHHH! But, you look so pretty! Don’t touch it yet; your grimy mummy hands will ruin it!”

Sighing at Ouma pitching a crocodile tear-induced tantrum, he argued no further. “Very well. I’ll try my best to keep my hair the way it is until further notice. I cannot guarantee it will stay proper overnight, but efforts will be made.”

Ouma instantly calmed down, smiling like he wasn’t just crying. “Good choice! It’s a nice change from your freaky old Medusa locks, anyways.”

“Is this all you needed from me? Class begins soon and I’ve yet to finish preparing.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll see you in a few! Look forward to what’s gonna happen.”

Ouma left after that, a highly suspicious expression on his face in making his exit. Merely shrugging it off, Korekiyo continued checking over notes and supplies for class and the daily agenda. The mood ring shimmered on his finger, a reminder of the 72 hours he’d be stuck putting up with yet another absurd scheme put into action by Ouma. As equal (or perhaps, slightly more based on observations made since their meeting day) in intelligence the aspiring dictator was to him, it all went to poor use detrimental to anyone without the combating patience.

Aggravating as it was, no arguments went against how fascinatingly beautiful Kiyo found the unique lifestyle of someone so brilliant.

* * *

Class went no further beyond its expected ritual. The teacher went on discussing the day’s topic with only a good handful of the class bothering to listen, everyone else either pretending or forgoing it altogether without hiding the secret. During preparation for cleaning time (and somehow trying to convince Kirumi not to take care of all the work despite her daily insistence), Ouma grabbed a pair of used blackboard erasers and clapped them together fast enough to make a cloud of chalk dust. Now, such an act wouldn’t be anything near worrisome…

If he wasn’t marching around the classroom doing it, resulting in a symphony of coughs from his highly annoyed classmates.

“Attention! Achtung! Hear ye, hear ye!” Ouma shouted obnoxiously, throwing the erasers somewhere and standing atop a freshly scrubbed desk much to Shuichi’s dismay. “I’ve come to make an announcement!”

“Nobody cares. Get off the desk and actually clean for once,” Maki hissed, her flinty look and demand ignored by Ouma without missing a beat.

“Just earlier today, something amazing happened to me.”

“You’re finally getting deported?” Himiko guessed.

“Close! In three days, I’m getting married. I just got engaged.”

“Oh, bull! Of all the lies you’ve told, this is your flimsiest!” Kaito argued. “Who’d wanna get stuck marrying you?”

“Now, now, Momota-chan. We all know you’re sad that your feelings for me will be forever unrequited, but this isn’t a lie for once.”

“You annoying little—!” Kaito was stopped from doing anything too reckless by Shuichi, not that Ouma was paying anymore heed either way. “Whatever. Humor us; who are you allegedly getting hitched to?”

“Thank you so kindly for asking! My handsome bride’s still in the room as we speak. It shouldn’t be hard to snuff him out. Can you guess who?”

“I might be able to,” Rantaro said, looking Kiyo’s way while helping him sweep discarded items into a dust pan and dumping them in the trash. “Unless you wanna be the one to say it?”

“I’ve no qualms doing so,” Korekiyo agreed, showing everyone the mood ring on his finger. “Behold.”

“You’ve bought yourself a mood ring?” Kiibo inquired, tilting his head. “What does that have to do with marriage?”

“I think that’s what he’s trying to get at,” Hoshi guessed. “Right, Kiyo?”

“Correct. For the next few days until the ceremony, Kokichi is my betrothed,” Korekiyo announced next, earning surprised sounds from a good portion of the class. “The ring is only temporary.”

“Well, look who fuckin’ called it!” Miu blurted out. “The class nobodies decided to finally do each other! It’s laughable how far people will go just to pop the cherry!”

Korekiyo shot the inventor his deadliest glare possible, oozing with malice. “Remain silent. Under no circumstances should you ever have the incentive to talk in my presence or anyone’s.”

“Heeee! Take a joke, won’t ya?!” Miu crinkled fearfully and easily. “A-All I’m saying is my own personal congrats! That ingrown little brain tumor’s your problem now, Shitguuji!”

“I agree. It’s better for degenerate males to pair themselves off with each other than to subject an innocent maiden to a lifetime of misery!” Tenko sneered.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for any of us to get married?” Shuichi wondered. “There definitely has to be more behind this.”

“Oh, yes, I should clarify this isn’t a real engagement, nor will there be an official wedding for obvious and legal reasons,” Korekiyo explained. “Merely a facsimile of the process done within three days' time.”

“That would make more sense,” Kaede said. “Still! To put together an entire wedding sounds like a wonderful thing to do, real or fake.”

“Don’t flatter yourself! Like any of you are invited!” Ouma snorted derisively. “Well, except my precious Ran-chan. He’s the best man.”

“You’re in on this, Amami-kun?” Shuichi asked.

“I don’t see why not. The bride and groom are counting on me to show,” Rantaro replied with a lax shrug and smile. “Wouldn’t wanna disappoint ‘em.”

“If it were an actual wedding, you wouldn’t…”

“How do you expect to get married with no guests?” Hoshi quizzed. “Or an officiant and everything else for that matter?”

“Obviously, we’ll have the kit and kaboodle at the ready to get us hitched,” Ouma informed him. “Everyone else will get thrown out by the guards and dogs I’ll also be putting at the doors. Then I can watch you all get ripped to shreds!”

“Lemme guess. Another lie?”

“Ding-a-ling-ding-ding! You’re so smart, Hoshi-chan! Maybe I should marry you instead.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take a huge raincheck on that one. You’re not exactly my type, anyways.”

“Your loss, don’t care! If anyone really is dumb enough to show up, don’t make my wedding a snooze fest. Then, I’ll have to throw you out for real.”

“If it’s a wedding officiant you so need, Atua beckons me to volunteer,” Angie said, her hands clasped together as if in a prayer. “As His vessel, He has blessed me with the qualifications necessary to oversee the union.”

“You’re a registered priest?” Maki wondered.

“Mostly. Things run differently on my island than they do here. Sharing the bride is customary in Japanese weddings, too, yes?”

“I’m not asking what you mean by that, so I’m just gonna say no.”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a minister!” Ouma chirped. “Good thing, too, because those guys cost a fortune.”

“Not that I couldn’t see you pulling some unruly strings to find one,” Korekiyo noted.

“Doesn’t matter, because now I don’t have to! Should be smooth sailing from here on out! You and I, soon to be in holy matrimony.”

“Perhaps ‘unholy’ would be a better fit, but such a beautiful display of it I look forward to seeing, no less.” Finishing up sweeping up trash and thanking Rantaro for his help, Kiyo left in favor of other rooms to clean. “Now, come along, Kokichi. We still have to sanitize some of the restrooms.”

“EWWW! I’m not goin’ in there!”

“I’ll be there helping you so you won’t have to put up as much of a fuss as you usually do. This is a collaborative effort.”

Ouma perked up right away, skipping out the door with Korekiyo by his side. “Oh, that changes everything! Now I can get my bride-to-be super dirty even before our wedding night!”

“Please. Be sensible with this and don’t sully my uniform. _Or_ TP the restrooms for the third time.”

Ouma’s childish chatter grew quieter until he and Korekiyo were both gone from sight, leaving everyone else to finish up the last of the classroom cleaning chores. No one made any further comments regarding the apparent future wedding between two of their classmates, though Kaito appeared expectant in someone addressing the school elephant. Dusting of chalky specks (from board _and_ desk alike, thanks to Ouma’s obnoxious announcement) and spraying of sanitary chemicals were keeping the room from being too silent, but none of the sort sufficed. Fed up with the speechlessness, Kaito decided to finally kill it and save himself from losing his mind.

“Really? Nobody’s got anything to say on this?” Kaito spoke up. “You’re all just acting like this is completely normal? Like it’s not worth mentioning ever again?”

“Because it’s not a big deal,” Maki said. “I’m not even going to the stupid thing, and frankly, I doubt anyone else is.”

“Aside from whoever has a role,” Kiibo added, putting the board erasers back where they belonged. “But, this does seem like one of Kokichi’s more harmless antics. Would attending be the worst possible thing to do?”

“Maybe not, but I’m not really seeing too much of a point,” Shuichi answered. “It’s not even a real wedding that’s going on.”

“Just another stunt Ouma’s trying to pull off and drag whoever he wants down with him,” Hoshi sighed, sliding another candy cigarette past his lips. “Same old story told differently.”

“Well, maybe Kiibo’s onto something,” Kaede cut in. “Think about it: the pretend wedding could easily be a good time for anyone that wants to go.”

“Really? How?” Shuichi wondered.

“With a few modifications and hands lent, it could be almost like a fun class activity together!”

“Nyeh, you mean like a party?” Himiko yawned.

“Exactly! Of course, not in a way that steals the show from the bride and groom, but all present could still have a wonderful time.”

“What do guests wear to weddings?” Gonta asked, intrigued. “Gonta has never attended one, but it’s polite to support friends on their most important day.”

“The dress code normally entails arriving wearing formal attire,” Kirumi advised. “Either finely clean suits or dresses are preferred, but never come in white.”

“Not until the honeymoon or the reception party John, anyways,” Miu snickered, her inappropriate comment completely ignored.

“Doesn’t the bride wear white? How can it be not allowed?” Gonta questioned further.

“It’s only if someone besides the bride wears white because you’re considered to be showing them up,” Tsumugi explained. “Then again, lots of jealous exes do it on purpose entirely out of spite.”

“Gentlemen never spite anyone! Gonta will wear his best suit to the wedding. ...But, wait. Gonta’s dress shirts are white all over. What is Gonta supposed to wear under his jacket if it’s no white allowed?!”

“Who cares?! It’s a fake wedding!” Kaito barked. “You’re all getting bent out of shape over a pretend ceremony!”

“That doesn’t mean it’s wrong to go along with it,” Rantaro pointed out. “No one’s getting hurt, are they?”

“Well… no, I guess not. But, what would any of us even do to spice up some fake wedding party?”

“Hmm,” Himiko pondered. “It just so happens my doves have gotten the hang of flying in control. And I did perfect my obedience spell, so releasing them wouldn’t make a mess anywhere.”

“You’re going, Himiko-chan?!” Tenko gasped, shyly twiddling her fingers together. “Did you happen to need a plus-one, by any chance? Even with who’s marrying who, going to a wedding does sound like fun…”

“If you wanna. I’m not gonna stop you.”

“Weddings also need a cake, most importantly,” Kirumi brought up. “I’ll take note of any potential food allergies and accept suggestions on hors d'oeuvres from everyone.”

“Don’t cakes need a topper?” Tenko wondered. “You know, those little figurines you put on the top tier?”

“That shall be my department besides uniting the bride and groom,” Angie decided. “Atua will not settle for lesser hands crafting something so delicate.”

“What should I do?” Kiibo wondered. “Most of the jobs have already been taken.”

“How about being the ring bearer?” Kaede suggested. “Or, you could even build one for the main event.”

The roboticist immediately got defensive, pointing sternly at Kaede. “Are you implying my creations are only good for servitude? I won’t be putting up with any robophobia on such a happy day!”

“You might be out of luck considering the groom’s Ouma,” Shuichi reminded him.

“Which is why I’d have to volunteer myself to be the ring bearer. Groom or not, Kokichi’s bigotry is unacceptable and I’m hoping to avoid that at all costs.”

“Then I’ll happily provide the procession music,” Kaede announced. “It’s a bit of a tight squeeze with only three days, but I’m sure I can pick something out in time.”

“Aren’t you just gonna be playing ‘Here Comes The Bride’?” Shuichi inquired, earning a huffy response from the Ultimate Pianist.

“That’s so cliché! Wagner’s great and all, but give some others the credit, too! I was thinking more Pachelbel’s ‘Canon In D Minor’, or even ‘Nuvole Bianche’. Einaudi’s not as old as a lot of composers I like, but he does produce some very lovely pieces. Maybe you could help me play something as a duet at the ceremony?”

“A duet?” Shuichi grew timid, smiling as he scratched the pinkening area on his face. “Well, I’m never against playing with the piano with you, but I’d hate to try and play at something as big as a wedding on the first try.”

“You’ll do just fine! We still have a few days to practice and perfect it, so I’d be happy to walk you through the steps.”

“Looks like we’ve got a wedding,” Rantaro concluded. “I guess I’d better prepare my best man speech for the reception and make it good. Wonder what I’m gonna say…”

As everyone started leaving the room discussing their potential plans regarding the event, Kaito was left in disbelief. “So, we’re doing this,” he sighed, stopping the Ultimate Tennis Pro from following just yet. “You’re really cool with all of it, Hoshi? Are you _going_?”

“Can’t say for sure, but what else do I have to do with my life?” Hoshi answered nonchalantly. “I guess I could see how this all turns itself on its head.”

Giving up, Kaito left to find anything left in need of cleaning, completely out of objections for the obvious absurdity Ouma managed to once again single handedly cause without being in the room for every minute of it. True, as Kiibo said, it could have been worse and far less tame, but it didn’t in any way subtract any nuisance points from the situation. Maybe everyone’s contributions could be what the doctor ordered and improve it greatly, but none could determine expectations from reality without the intuition of an augur.

 _This oughta be good_ , Kaito sighed internally, having a full feeling it wouldn’t.

* * *

During a freer period the following day, Korekiyo sat at his desk jotting down some recent observations and inquiries inside of his personal journal. Although he had to touch it up a bit from slumber, his hair was still fixed in the braid Ouma insisted it stay in previously. He still had the novelty mood ring firmly staying put on his finger, showing devotion to retaining authenticity. Just after completing a written sentence, a knock at the door took his attention.

“I’ll be right there,” Korekiyo replied, getting up and pushing in the chair before going to deal with his unexpected guest. “How may I—”

A large bag was pulled over his head and tightened, rendering Korekiyo muffled and room for struggling to escape limited. Unable to see where he was going, all he could tell was someone or thing had started dragging him along like a leashed dog that didn’t want to do its own walk. He figured out he was being shoved inside a room different from his own, seeing after having the bag removed that it belonged to Tsumugi, who judging by her holding the very sack that just covered his eyes, revealed herself as his kidnapper.

“May I help you, Shirogane-san? And ask why you felt the need to kidnap me in place of simply telling me what’s requested?” Korekiyo demanded to know.

“I figured it’d been obvious, but I guess not,” Tsumugi uttered absentmindedly. “I’m here to conduct your dress fitting.”

“My fitting? But, I don’t have—”

“—Since you’re getting fake-married in a couple of days, I’ve put myself in charge of suturing the perfect gown for you to wear down the aisle and at the altar.”

“Oh, I’m afraid there isn’t any need for you to do that. You’ll only be distracting yourself from your countless projects over something qualifying close to mere make-believe, and I cannot allow myself to be the cause of deterring one’s fervid passion.”

“Deterring? Are you kidding? This is _helping_ me! Getting the chance to personally design a dress that would look best on someone and having a personal model for it is a dream! Lots of inspiration to use and put into an entire outfit; why would I ever pass that up?”

“Kukukuku… it is quite beautiful to see you put this much into an opportunity you’ve found from otherwise unusual circumstances. If complying allows me to continue witnessing such a wondrous display, then in no way shall I stop you.”

“Great answer, because we’re getting started right now!” Tsumugi stripped Korekiyo in one swift tug of her hand, leaving him indecently exposed with only his arm bandages and underwear saving his grace. “Come with me to my stool and don’t move too much as I’m working.”

“Was it absolutely necessary to undress me so suddenly…?”

“You can’t do a dress fitting with other clothes on, can you?”

Well, there was no arguing with that, he had to give her. Stepping a foot at a time onto the short stool, Korekiyo held still as Tsumugi got to measuring. The focus the cosplayer had put into just the first step alone was eagle-level, absorbing every last bit of her muse’s physical form and envisioning how to put it to good use. He flinched whenever an index finger tapped at his bare skin or worked with a thumb to pinch it painlessly, but Tsumugi told him to stay put lest she need to start over and make everything go longer than was necessary.

“81 centimeters…” Tsumugi contemplated, pulling the yellow measuring tape from Korekiyo’s torso. “I won’t have to shrink the bodice too much after all. How much do you happen to weigh, Shinguuji-kun?”

“I hardly think that’s any of your concern,” Korekiyo hissed sternly.

“That’s okay. Your waistline is pretty small as is, so besides a few adjustments, there shouldn’t be a lot of trouble getting the gown on.”

He refrained from responding to that, allowing his body to be used as a living mannequin. Tsumugi wrote down the final measurement, going over and finding the specific actual one acting as a vessel for her most recent creation while wheeling it to Korekiyo. Without wasting a beat, she took it off and ushered her model inside a discreet, but well-mirrored spot so he could put the dress on. Occasionally, she’d take a peek to make sure nothing got ruined, but was shooed away for privacy every time.

“I’ll want a full view of how it looks when you come out, but I don’t wanna see a single tear because you rushed into getting dressed!” Tsumugi warned.

“That isn’t anything you’ll need to fret over,” Korekiyo reassured from inside, the rustling of fabric coating his words. “I understand how delicate one’s fine handiwork with clothing is more than anyone. Especially when it comes to uniforms gifted to me.”

“Do you need any help zipping up?”

“No, I’m alright. Thank you.” The sound of teeth meeting each other informed Tsumugi the dress was finally on, a few extra pat down as the finishing preparations. “I’m ready.”

“Come on out! I want to see how it looks with the accessories, too.”

Although barefoot, Korekiyo revealed himself hiking the wide dress skirt with hip peplum up away from his toes, letting it fall as he showed off its full strapless form. “How do I look?”

“Just perfect…! I’ve seen plenty of crossplay done well before, but this just takes the cake! Or, at least it will at the wedding.”

“You think it looks alright? The skirt feels rather roomy. Are you sure you don’t want me to wear a simpler gown?”

“Shinguuji-kun, there’s not enough room in this school for two plain people. It’s your big day and thus my mission is to make sure you dress the part well.” Tsumugi slid Korekiyo a pair of white almond toe pumps, helping keep him steady while he stepped into them and adjusted. “Even better! I’ll just get the rest of the accessories, and you’ll look like a million yen.”

“This only helps more with my fieldwork. Seeing how much effort others are so willing to put into creating the perfect ceremony is humanity’s perfectionist tendencies displayed in full! It’s breathtaking— ouch!”

“Hold still, I’m putting in the pins.” Tsumugi looked at the measurements she’d taken earlier, pinning together fabric so Kiyo’s dress fit the numbers. “I gotta admit it was hard choosing the exact inspiration for your gown. An entire binge session of Wedding Peach and still nothing. So, in the end, I went with _another_ Peach and remembered how much I fell in love with her Odyssey gown.”

“You’ve read Homer? What other parts stood out to you best? And while we’re on the topic, the Iliad’s details regarding the Trojan War—”

“—No, that’s the wrong kind of Odyssey. We’re on different pages here.”

“I see. It seems even I’m lacking in certain tales I don’t seem to be aware of presently.” Korekiyo was handed a choice in neck accessories: a pearl necklace or a more simple white choker with a single sapphire hanging from it. “The choker. Pearls might be too excessive.”

“You seem to know a lot about women’s fashion for a guy. Which is weird because I’ve never seen that much variety in your outfits.” It was either his brown uniform for Hope’s Peak, or just as often, his green, rather militaristic-looking one he revered so much.

“My loyalties are to my beloved sister and the lenient school dress code, though I will admit to sometimes going out in what’s considered traditionally more feminine. If you’d met me well before my Sunset Hill days, the occurrence wouldn’t be nearly as rare as you’re used to.”

“That would explain why I hardly see you in anything else. But now's a great chance to try something new again.”

“Well, the gown is lovely and I look forward to adorning it for the ceremony. It encourages authenticity and makes it feel as real as possible. Did you prepare a veil, too?”

“Yep, you’ll see it right after this last adjustment is done. Stay perfectly still so you don’t become my backup pincushion.” Tsumugi stuck the last pin in the dress, sizing up Korekiyo fairly impressed. “Okay, you’re ready for the finishing touch! But first, I’ll need you to take your bandages off.”

“I must refuse. Aside from my mask, my bandages are an important part of the uniform Sister worked hard to bestow me with. To remove anymore would be highly insulting to her name and I could never live with myself to even consider potentially shaming the one who deserves it least.”

“Well, you can’t wear bandages with a wedding dress! That’s going to ruin all of _my_ hard work!” Rubbing her head, Tsumugi forced herself to cool down. “If you want, then just wear them over the bandages if you’re gonna fight me on this.”

“Wear what?”

“These!” Tsumugi presented Korekiyo with a pair of silk opera gloves, roughly the same length as his bandage wraps. “I figured wearing both would feel really uncomfortable on you, but if you think you can handle it, be my guest.”

Korekiyo accepted the gloves, sliding them up his arms individually. Just as Tsumugi predicted, it didn’t feel the least bit comfortable combining them with gauze, far too thick underneath for his liking. Still, he managed, happily willing to persevere if it meant obeying his dear older sister’s wishes and keeping the gown from looking shabby. Thankfully for him and Tsumugi, the gloves hadn’t wrinkled noticeably over the extra layer and looked as if they were alone on his arms. Bowing his head, Kiyo let himself be crowned by a silver tiara adorned with small garnets and the evanescent white veil dangling over his back.

“Yes, yes! My vision’s all coming together nicely,” Tsumugi practically drooled. “Do a turn with the veil so I can see it altogether. And one more after, but no veil.”

Korekiyo obeyed, showing off his current appearance with the veil covering the rest of his face and after pulling it back. “What would you like in return for doing this? Having you go through this without remittance doesn’t seem fair for me to do.”

“Unless I was doing a commission, I don’t need your money. I also don’t need anything else back; you agreeing to the fitting and putting my dress to good use is reward enough.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Oh, but I guess I’ll need you to take it off and change since the fitting’s over. I’ll bring it over in time for the ceremony and help you back into it.”

“Very well. You have my utmost gratitude, Shirogane-san. So selflessly going through all of this and asking for nothing in return despite my insistence. Truly, your beauty shines its brightest from the kindness of your heart…!”

“Umm, Shinguuji-kun. The dress.”

Realizing he hadn’t gotten to changing in midst of his anthropological praises, Korekiyo pulled down the zipper on the back of his gown and permitted himself some time to get dressed in private. He returned minutes later with his normal uniform back on his body, carefully handing the dress and accessories to Tsumugi for safekeeping. Thanking her again for the generosity and leaving, he stopped hearing two familiar voices down the hallway and couldn’t help but listen inadvertently.

“Kirumi-chan! You’re gonna be the mom of honor!” Ouma declared, momentarily distracting the woman from making an important list with crosses and circles scribbled on it.

“Don’t you mean to say the _maid_ of honor?” Kirumi inquired.

“You’re already a maid with honor! Why would I call you that twice?”

“Because I’m no one’s mother, something I’ve told you time and time again that has yet to stick.”

“Whatever, whatever. Do you want the job or not? I don’t wanna ask anyone else.”

“I’ve already put myself in charge of preparing the catering, but if you so request for me to be moral support, then I won’t refuse.”

“Great choice!” Ouma put up a quivering lip, which Kirumi knew to be part of his usual nonsense. “For my own poor mama to not be able to make my wedding. That’d be just plain heartbreaking!”

“I’ll still show up either way, so I promise you won’t need to worry about me missing a second.”

“Awesome to hear! Don’t be late or don’t bother coming at all. It’d be a shame to have to kick you out.”

Though only one was visible past her hair, Kirumi rolled her eyes. “You have my word. May I resume putting together the menu from everyone’s suggestions?”

“Hey, I won’t stop you. Make sure it’s good and ignore any idiot that said pettitoes. The minimum requirement for being worthy of coming to a wedding like mine is one brain cell and that’s proof they couldn’t even get that down.”

“You know I’d never serve anything that can’t reach a general consensus. Once the menu and catering is set in stone, there should be little if any disagreements.”

“And dedication like yours is exactly what makes you the world’s best mom. I’m counting on you!”

“I’m not—”

Ouma left without bothering to listen to Kirumi’s objection, having nothing else to tell her. Korekiyo turned on his heel with the intention of returning to the journal he’d been stolen away from so quickly. Maybe if quick enough, he could savor more peace and quiet that was otherwise impossible to achieve being around the allergic Ouma. From where he looked last, he wasn’t very close in proximity. He just might get away with it!

“Guess who, future spouse?” Nevermind. He was never the luckiest person on Earth.

“Surely, it couldn’t be my groom-to-be?” Korekiyo pretended to answer incorrectly, waiting for Ouma to stop covering his eyes with his small hands after having climbed him like a monkey.

“Wrong! It is! The one and only me.” Ouma finally got off, crossing around to the front. “I haven’t seen you all day. What’ve you been up to? How’s the weather up there?”

“Partly cloudy, but fair. The same as I assume it to be down there. And to answer your question, I was writing my observations down in private until Shirogane-san kidnapped me for an impromptu dress fitting, and I’d like to get back to doing that.”

“Ugh, you too? She tried roping me into her weird dress-up doll kink, but I told her to buzz off because I already have my outfit planned. Can you believe some people? Digging their noses into something that’s not even about them and acting like it is! And I thought I was pompous!”

“Oh, it wasn’t anything of the sort. She was so generously presenting me with the necessary garbs and it’d be discourteous to reject it.”

“I don’t mean just her. I know you’re a fine, tall drink of olive juice and all, but get your head out of the clouds for a minute and face the facts.”

“What facts would those be, exactly?”

“There you guys are, don’t move,” Himiko interrupted, snapping a picture of Ouma and Kiyo together onto her phone. “Perfect. I’ll just send this to Angie and we’ll have a topper. Ehh, maybe one not looking like two people saw a ghost.”

“...See?” Ouma continued, gesturing to the departing Himiko sending the photo. “People never care about something unless they find a way to make it all about themselves. They’re not doing this for us; it’s all for them, them, them, but they’ll never say it.”

“While that’s certainly a likely motive, is it inherently bad for so much effort to be put into the wedding? If it were left wholly up to us, I seriously doubt we’d be able to get all of this done in a few short days. Think of it as a perk, if you will, that this much collaboration is being put to use.”

“I guess. But, if they think I’m sending any thank you cards out, they’ve got another thing coming. This will be a one-time deal I let them get in my way and done.”

“Who knows? You could wind up proven wrong and see that everyone wants us to enjoy ourselves as much as they do. I don’t think they’ve completely forgotten this isn’t their pseudo-wedding.”

Ouma patted Korekiyo on the arm, laughing derisively and shaking his head. “Oh, Kiyo-chan, it’s super cute how grandeur your delusions are. I guess being as smart as me doesn’t mean we always gotta think the same.”

“I’m many words, Kokichi. ‘Deluded’ isn’t one of them. In no way am I telling you you’re wrong; only that it could be as likely a possibility.”

“And having opinions is cool, no matter how depressingly wrong that one is.”

Not in any mood to have a debate, Korekiyo let Ouma have it and said nothing more on the matter. “May I leave now? I still haven’t finished my entries.”

“Can I come with? I wanna play with my darling Kiyo-chan now! Mom bored me to tears and now it’s up to you to restart my brain so it won’t turn to mush.”

“While I always enjoy our time together, I can’t entertain you and write at the same time. That, and I can’t prevent you from getting your hands all over my belongings.”

“You know, you can’t keep pulling that card every time I ask to come into your room. I’ll be good! I’m already done using your monkey skulls as hand puppets, anyways.”

“ _What_?”

Ouma quickly defended himself from Kiyo’s dark anger burning a hole into his forehead. “Lying! Boy, you didn’t take long to fall for that one, huh?”

Korekiyo simmered, though still highly annoyed. “I swear, you have to be the most insufferable creature I’ve had the displeasure of meeting thus far…”

“Yeah, yeah, you and everyone else. You love me anyways, though~.”

“Do you still wish to accompany me in peace until I’m done my notes or have you had a change of heart?”

“Take me away! When you’re done, feel free to talk my ear off with something new. I know you’re a walking folklore storybook, so whatever you’ve got, lay it on me!”

“My, someone’s eager. Very well. I actually do have plenty to tell you.”

Ouma skipped along Korekiyo’s calmer footsteps, already chattering away before him with some blatant fib mixed in with ill-mannered words involving one of their classmates (most likely criticizing Kiibo’s robotics work or Miu’s existence via slut-shaming). Kiyo kept an open ear, but didn’t actively engage lest he feed into more of Ouma’s misbehavior than he already was. When pulled inside his own dormitory by his guest, he took a bit of time to mentally evaluate him. Yes, it was foolish to neglect the selfish, backhanded side of humanity as doing so would waste the beauty that came with such ugly traits. But, with each bad thing came the potential for someone to wind up having good intentions after all.

Did Ouma genuinely not believe that other side? He never was the most friendly with any of his classmates, not even entirely so when among the ones he claimed to “actually like”. It’d been very hard to tell with him despite how much time Korekiyo spent around him. From what he could pick up, Ouma did come off as rather cynical underneath his impish, childlike nature. Was it because of severe trust issues? A jaded outlook on life from an early age? Many possibilities and not one was a concrete answer to decipher the thrilling mystery just yet, if ever—

“—Hey, when you said not to touch _any_ of your stuff, did you mean ‘all’ or just ‘most’?” Ouma asked, eyeing Korekiyo’s collection of artifacts cased behind glass.

“ _All_. If I see even the slightest fingerprint staining any of my belongings, you’ll get something far less pleasant than a tale told,” Korekiyo bit, glaring at him.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘tear out my nerves’. Bang-zoom, straight to the moon or whatever.”

“I don’t recall threatening to send you to the moon. Such would be highly improbable to do on my own.”

“You haven’t, but wouldn’t Momota-chan be jealous if you did? It’d be worth seeing even if I’m getting the air sucked out of my lungs in outer space!”

“If you behave while I work, then I’d be happy to ensure a future not detrimental to either of us. I’d prefer to have you around rather than launched past the mesosphere.”

“No need. I’m already out of this world as is.”

Korekiyo tried and failed to stifle a genuine snicker at that, turning away so as not to see Ouma’s face light up. He didn’t intend to give him the full satisfaction on a silver platter, even though he knew it’d be taken for his own anyways. Now done with his notes, he kept his promise and sat down with Ouma, telling the story of a half-bear boy and alluding it to an infamous Anglo-Saxon epic. In-between receiving playful interjections, Kiyo found solace in getting to share his knowledge with someone he used to never expect to be a good listener. Every iceberg did carry its larger depths underneath.

Someday, he hoped to get to the very bottom of that icy mound blocked off by leagues of frigid ocean water. For now, he’d stick to eagerly anticipating their pretend union and see where he could go from that point forward.

* * *

Day 2 of the mock-betrothal went smoother for Korekiyo and Ouma, aside from a few run-ins with a couple of the others participating in setup. They’d just barely escaped alive after Gonta came over asking if his “friends” could accompany him to the wedding (thanks to Kiyo’s quick tongue covering up Ouma’s dislike of insects wanting to forbid it), coming to the agreement that he and one of his choosing were required to stay in the chairs section until after. Disappointment was clear from the entomologist’s response, but he remained faithful to the term plus- _one_.

“You know, most would prefer not to die before the officiant says ‘til death do us part’,” Korekiyo warned from the recent incident.

“I totally had it covered!” Ouma insisted, hands behind his head. “Gonta’s the most gullible lug I’ve ever met, so I would have just told him I was fooling around!”

“Provoking Gokuhara-kun is a horrible idea in itself. You know this, I know this, the entire class knows this, and yet you went and tested it regardless.”

“Today’s my last day as a free man. Once the shackles of marriage come and get me tomorrow, there’s no way out.”

“Hush with that. No union is perfect, but to unite for a lifetime spent with your soulmate is a wonderful thing and I expect you to speak of it as such.”

“Awww, I’m your soulmate? I knew you had good taste.”

“Heavens no. I cherish our unusual bond, but the one I am bound to is another. There can be none other that could ever love me as truly as she.”

“Oh, barf. Don’t you know it’s rude to talk about your ex in front of your fiancé? What’s she got that I don’t?”

Korekiyo chuckled. “Plenty. And, our love isn’t a farce unlike the pretend wedding.”

“Just ‘cause we’re not really getting hitched doesn’t mean it’s any less special. I wouldn’t pick up just any old pretty face and pop the question. Why bother with someone I don’t give a hoot about?”

“And you’re certain you didn’t just pull me into this because I was the most convenient?”

“What are you, deaf? I just said why I asked you!” Ouma reverted back to his more casual side, sticking an imp’s tongue at Kiyo. “But, maybe it was just because you were sitting right next to me after all. You got me!”

“No matter your motive, I’m set on seeing this through until you ‘divorce’ me. How and when do you plan on doing that, by the way?”

“As if I’d give that away so easily! You’ll ruin the fun of the surprise.”

“The list of things to anticipate from you has yet to stop growing. It’s become impossible at this point to spoil it on your watch.”

“Hey! Mr. and Mr. Cockitchy! Get your scrawny asses over here and check this out!” Miu demanded, dragging them by force.

“Wonderful. Where could the last person I wanted to see today be taking us?”

“Probably to her shitty excuse of a sex dungeon,” Ouma mocked. “We’re the first and only in line!”

“Can it. I’m showing you guys a once-in-a-lifetime offer, so don’t make me change my mind,” Miu bit.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely a sex dungeon. HEEEELP! We’re being held hostage by some sweaty whore in her underground business—!”

“—Okay, that’s enough from you for a while,” Korekiyo silenced Ouma, covering his mouth.

“How you put up with that mangy little pube louse so easily is beyond me,” Miu snorted, face reddened. “And you’re _marrying_ him?!”

“He’s an… acquired taste. Not quite for everyone to enjoy.”

“One man’s trash is another man’s hump doll. No arguing there.”

“Could you just show us what you have to present before I change my mind and turn back?”

“I’d be happy to. This way!” Miu hauled them over to her work bench, unveiling a rectangular box opening and revealing a small pillow carrying two mechanical rings. “Look at ‘em and weep! The finest wedding bands made in history, and by the finest inventor ever to shoot outta the vag, too!”

While Korekiyo gave Miu another chilling glare to shut her up, Ouma reached over and grabbed one of the rings, inspecting it like a fine jewel. “And what makes you think we’d stoop so low as to use something that touched your greasy skank hands, hmm?” he asked crudely.

“Like you’ve got any other choice,” Miu spat. “You two are way too piss-poor to afford the real deal, so I’m your best bet. Go on, try ‘em on!”

The boys hesitantly took a ring each, slipping them on their ring finger to get a good feel. “It’s… a good fit,” Korekiyo admitted. “I never took you for the welding type, Iruma-san.”

“That’s ‘cause they were _built_ , not welded, shit-for-brains. And it wasn’t easy, either. I’m more of a ‘bigger and better’ kinda gal, not ‘puny and finger-loving’.”

“The so-called ‘Golden Turd’ Miu Iruma had trouble with two little wedding rings?” Ouma taunted. “Someone’s losing her touch already.”

“When I want your garbage opinion, I’ll ask for it! Besides, I spent most of the work making ‘em look right for Kiibabey to haul down the aisle. I’d hate to put together something shoddy.”

“Īdabashi-kun is the ring-bearer?” Korekiyo wondered. “I’m surprised he’d want to attend.”

“Yeah, he came to me practically on his knees begging to be in the ceremony!” Ouma cackled. “I decided I’d show mercy just this once as long as none of his dinky little tin cans ruin everything.”

“Bullshit! I was standing right next to him!” Miu snapped. “It’s true he asked, but he’s too good to beg for someone like you. And, you said you’d chill with talkin’ shit about his robots. He takes a lot of pride in making them, like they were his own kids!”

“Awww, I don’t care. Either way, Kiiboi’s making himself useful for once, so I guess I can’t give him too much crap there.”

“You also forget he willingly volunteered,” Korekiyo brought up. “Don’t you think that implies he wants to be in attendance to support you in some way?”

“Oh, please. Everyone knows he’s only the ring-bearer as his one ticket in. He’s even dumber than usual if he tries to shape it any other way.”

“Hey, give the guy more credit than that,” Miu scolded. “You and I both know Kiibo’s too nice to have any ulterior motives. Fuck, it’s probably the case that he actually found something in you even half-good.”

“Ha! Idiot’s probably looking too hard at something that’s not even there because the whole world knows I’m 95% evil and 5% grape soda. Whatever gets him sleeping at night, I couldn’t care less to argue with that robot-smooching lug nut.”

“Bah, forget it. Telling you anything is more work than perfecting the rings.”

“Speaking of them, you didn’t happen to add any ‘secret features’ either of us should know about, did you?” Korekiyo interrogated.

“What do ya take me for?! —Don’t actually answer that; just know you won’t be disappointed slipping these bad boys on your fingers tomorrow. I’ll hold onto them to polish them up and make them look good and pretty.”

“Thank you again, Iruma-san. It is oddly kind of you to do this for us.”

“Look, just because I’ve got a golden brain doesn’t mean I can’t have a golden heart. I mean, a solid rack like mine—”

“—If you still wish to attend the ceremony with your esophagus where it should be, you’ll stop right there.”

“Gheeee! Someone’s a bridezilla today, ain’t he?! W-What crawled up your pisshole and died, huh?!”

“Same thing that took a look at yours and headed for the hills,” Ouma laughed. “Rings look great, Miu-Miu. See ya tomorrow morning and don’t be late or come looking skankier than you usually do.”

Miu writhed with delight hearing that, though Korekiyo and Ouma left not paying it any heed. In resuming their previously planned agenda together, coming bolting from a room was Shuichi, covered head to chest in multiple colors of paint, holding a roll of paper dampened by the same liquid with a familiar chisel sticking from his shoulder. He seemed stunned seeing Kiyo and Ouma, getting even more incentive to book it when Angie came chasing after him holding a roll of bandages.

“Where are you going, Shuichi?” she called after. “You can’t walk around with one of my art tools sticking out of you! And, on top of that, we haven’t finished the—”

“—Shhh, shhh! Yonaga-san,” Shuichi shushed, pointing to Korekiyo and Ouma staring at both of them.

“Hmm? Oh! Nyahahaha! My mistake.” Angie casually waved to the boys as if nothing strange was happening, though they didn’t show much surprise. “Pay no heed to either of us. In due time shall I reveal what Atua presently has in store and not a moment sooner. You wouldn’t wish for His surprise to be ruined, would you?”

“Can Atua let me go to the nurse’s office? I think I might be starting to lose feeling in my shoulder.”

“There is no need for that. I carry plenty of emergency supplies for times I wind up breaking skin or worse during my projects.”

All three boys seemed to be thinking the same thing. _‘Or worse?!’_

“Now, you two run along and first thing tomorrow, I will be ready to unite you in the name of the divine.”

“Can’t wait, see you then!” Ouma quipped, pointing to Shuichi running off. “Don’t rough him up too much, mmkay? He surprisingly won’t taint things nearly as much if he shows.”

“Shuichi shall live as soon as I catch him.” Angie chased after the detective, pulling a few inches of bandages out from the roll. “Wait up! I can heal you!”

Ouma rolled his eyes, continuing on his way with Kiyo. “Man, don’t you just love how annoying people are? Well, I know you do because you’re in love with the human race and all, so that’s a question answered.”

“I love the beauty of humanity’s greatest traits and faults. That does not equate to romantic attraction,” Korekiyo corrected. “And as I just got done saying, I am happily sworn to another.”

“Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time. What makes you think I can’t charm you enough that you fall head over heels for me instead?”

“I could list many reasons, but we’d be here all day if I did. So, I’ll spare you by reinstating how any so-called ‘love’ you have to offer will never compare to my fated one’s.”

“Oooh, a challenge! My Achilles Heel.”

“And such hubris will prove an arrow in that exact spot.” Korekiyo fiddled with the silver pendant he wore regardless of outfit, gazing at it meaningfully. “Look, Kokichi. I say none of this because I don’t care for you. Your numerous faults aside, I still consider you a dear friend of mine.”

“Ouch, man. Friendzoning your own future husband? Not cool.”

“Don’t take it as a negative thing. It’s still a strong form of love, but my chances at coming across Eros a second time are non-existent.”

“What makes you say that? You know you should never count any unhatched chickens.”

“This is inappropriate to discuss. Love is a matter of experience, not petty gossip.”

“Well, that sucks for love, then, because petty is my specialty.” Ouma hung from Korekiyo’s shoulders by curling his feet in, dangling from an extra way’s off the ground. “Come on, spill the beans! Don’t leave me hanging!”

“Very well.” Kiyo removed Ouma, setting him back on his feet. “There you are. Now, you can’t fall and hit your head.”

“Not what I meant, smartass. How can you be so sure I or someone less cool can’t steal your heart in one swoop? I’ve already got you under my spell.”

“Because it’s unwise and impossible to compare something as true as love with a pitiful imitation. That’s all I will say on this, and that’s final.”

“Hey, nothing pitiful about me, Mister. If you say there’s no way, then you’re shit out of luck ‘cause I already like you.”

Korekiyo blinked suddenly, eyes staying on Ouma despite the temptation to go astray. “You’ll have to specify. ‘Liking’ someone has multiple meanings.”

“Meh. Who can say?” Ouma’s face showed hardly any emotion, Kiyo quickly noticing the difference between that and his normal responses.

“...Indeed. Who can say, really? At least I’m certain that you still carry the odd drive to be around me.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to pay a fortune and double to get rid of me! Maybe throw in your left kidney while you’re at it.”

“Even if it weren’t possible to live with only one, I don’t intend to rid myself of you just yet.”

“‘Yet’? What do you mean ‘yet’?!”

“Kukukuku. Try not to provoke me and you won’t have to find out, now will you?”

“Wah! You choose the worst times to be creepy! You’re lucky I’m not calling off the wedding because of this.”

“Right, as if it were like you to end something before you’ve gotten bored with it.”

“Good eye! You pass the test once again.”

A few extra seconds in, Korekiyo found himself unintentionally tuning out Ouma’s banter, his thoughts far too loud to let him listen. He wasn’t entirely ignoring his existence, either. If anything, Ouma was one of two things— or, _people_ — on his mind. The mood ring on his finger for a few moments stayed an accurate mixed green, but began to brown with fear at the thought of Kiyo going against what his heart knew best and wanted solely. After all, regardless of what Ouma meant before, the whole affair was no more than pure make-believe. Nothing could ever hope to blossom between them past simple companionship.

The cloud of doubt finally left him be for the day’s remainder. If only Korekiyo knew that was not its final strike.

* * *

Given after his recent sleep, the morning of the big day was finally here. While completing part of his early bird routine, Korekiyo wound up getting a visit from Tsumugi and Kirumi both. As expected, one came in with her prized gown tailored perfectly to adjusted measurements, while the other was more there to include any finishing aspects the overall look could need, and making sure it all stayed neat. There was little struggle getting Korekiyo back into the dress, now eased by the final product as Kirumi held his hair up while Tsumugi eased the zipper to its peak from behind.

“Although your undying dedication is beyond admirable, Toujou-san,” Korekiyo began, hair held up by the maid’s hand while she skillfully brushed it in slow strokes, “this part isn’t anything I’m unable to take care of myself. Especially with so much on your plate just for one day.”

“Three tasks are very simple for me to handle,” Kirumi insisted. “Helping you look nice for the ceremony is the least of my worries.”

“I never took you for the hair stylist type.”

“While it’s no profession of mine, a few former masters have asked me for help with some particularly bad hair days. I’ve always found a way to make it work out in the end.”

“Especially since you’ve done nothing but wear the same braid for three days!” Tsumugi chided. “It took every ounce of strength not to say anything at the fitting, but today, you have no excuse.”

“I sincerely apologize,” Korekiyo said. “Kokichi wanted me to keep my hair that way as further proof of our engagement. It is how this whole affair began, after all.”

“You’re pretending to marry him just because he braided your hair? What kind of reason is that?”

“One no other than Kokichi could make happen,” Kirumi answered. “Although certainly unorthodox, I’ve seen stranger motives to marry. Someone I once served developed strong enough feelings for a _mannequin_ of all things and went as far as to make it his bride, reception and all!”

“As much as I love my mannequins, I doubt I’d go as far as to get married to them. I’ll stick to our professional relationship and use them for cosplay only.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s so unheard of for someone to develop an attraction to inanimate objects,” Korekiyo pointed out. “The raw, utter passion humans are capable of could be directed just about anywhere without it necessarily being a different person.”

“What about you?” Kirumi wondered. “Surely, there has to be another reason you agreed to this. It’s no mystery that you and Kokichi are strangely fond of each other.”

“While that is true, my reasoning goes no further than fieldwork. I’ve primarily agreed to this charade in hopes of enacting participant observation.”

“So, I take it if it were possible, you wouldn’t want to marry him for real?”

“Of course not. Unless the union was an arranged one, I wouldn’t marry another whom I did not love, nor loved me in return.”

“What if he turned out to see you in such a way? Not that it’d be easy to figure out, but Kokichi wouldn’t pick just anybody to wed, real or otherwise.”

“Regardless of what he’d hypothetically feel, I share no such love with anyone but my true one. I say this less out of malice and more for fact.”

“Exactly,” Tsumugi wholeheartedly agreed. “Besides, everyone knows Ouma-kun’s better off with someone else, too. He’d definitely prefer the introverted, mysterious sleuthing type by a longshot.”

Kirumi ignored the implications, already knowing who Tsumugi was describing. “I don’t intend for this to be gossip over a taken person’s love life, but it was merely a suggestion.”

“I agree with Toujou-san,” Korekiyo concurred, tugging white opera gloves over his bandaged arms. “Love is not up for discussion, nor can you give it to just anyone you happen to grow fond of. Doing such would not be real love at all.”

“That, too. It can lead to damaged professionalism and hinder your focus, on top of being highly inappropriate when directed the wrong way.”

“It doesn’t matter to me either way,” Tsumugi concluded, fastening the choker over Kiyo’s neck. “Almost got him; now we just need the hair to look right and I can put the veil tiara on.”

“I’ll just tuck a few parts together, and… done! But, now I wonder where Saihara-kun is with the—”

“—Sorry, sorry! I’m here!” Shuichi panted, barging into the room covering his eyes with the hand not behind his back. “Is everyone decent?”

“Yes,” Korekiyo confirmed.

Moving his hand, Shuichi got a good look at the faux-bride-to-be so far, eyes lighting up pleasantly surprised. “Wow. Kiyo, you look… stunning. Kokichi’s gonna love seeing you.”

Korekiyo turned deaf to the praise, pointing to Shuichi’s hidden hand. “Weren’t you waiting to show me something?”

“Oh, right. This is actually from the rest of us.” In his hand presented a bouquet of paper roses wrapped in purple and olive ribbon and tied with a bow. Each rose, varying in neatness depending on whose hands made it, was a different color in a total palette of fourteen. “We weren’t sure how you’d feel about the garden getting plucked, so we all chipped in for a backup method.”

“You… all made these?” Korekiyo eyed the neater ones, such as indigo and yellow, and took careful note of the shoddier russet and plum ones. “Well, your unique artistic abilities clearly show. I deeply appreciate the sentiment. Thank you.”

“Just try not to throw it near anything wet when it’s time for you to toss the bouquet. I’m pretty sure Yonaga-san might stick her chisel in my shoulder on purpose this time if that happened.”

“I’ll be sure to aim well for your sake, at least. If you’ll excuse me, I still need to finish getting ready.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’d better go and help Akamatsu-san finish up music prep, then. I’ve finally gotten the song we picked down and ready!”

When Shuichi left, Korekiyo politely dismissed Kirumi and Tsumugi to have enough time to prepare themselves, thanking them for the help on their way out. In looking for how and where to insert the tiara along his touched up hair, he got to thinking. As much as he tried shooing it away, back came the cloud of doubt hovering over his head pestering him about Ouma. There just wasn’t any sort of way he could someday come to love him past a companion. Such would be absurd, impossible, and atop that treacherous! It was wrong, so vile— inconceivable!

But… why didn’t it feel entirely as such? Yes, the thought of infidelity made him close to losing his lunch, but what he had with Ouma could never attempt to do such. That itself thinned the ice, but he somehow escaped with minimal (yet all the more justified) consequence. Could he really love another and receive such in return just as strong? Would it truly be a fate most unthinkable—?

 _No_ , (s)he scolded on the spot without saying so out loud. _Stop being so foolish, dearest Korekiyo. Love exists nowhere in outside bounds. Do not waver, do not think otherwise, do not spare such thoughts for an impudent little jester, and more importantly…_

“I apologize,” Korekiyo whispered in front of no other, the clawed grip digging into his exposed shoulder he’d barely been aware of letting up and stroking the reddened dashes with eerie comfort. “I may see this through to its end, but none of it means a thing.”

Very good. To eat the lotus beyond the eyes makes one slothful and unfocused. Korekiyo knew better, mentally kicking himself for allowing such thoughts poison him like the alluring water blossom’s fruit itself. Another apology passed his lips, vowing not to be fooled by a false idea of love to his real one. The tiara was in, the white veil over his face, and the bouquet ready. Inches away from the knob, however, in came Himiko wearing a simple powder blue dress aligned in darker flowers with a yellow ribbon sash around her waist and pale cyan Mary Jane shoes. The two things out of place were her traditional witch’s hat covering her brushed bob, and an unknown bobble she was holding full of colorless liquid.

“Did you need something?” Korekiyo asked.

“No, just coming to make sure you didn’t get cold feet,” Himiko answered. “And, to do this.” Lifting the veil enough, she squeezed the bobble’s ball a few times and sprayed powerfully fragrant mist directly at Kiyo’s face, sending him into a coughing fit.

“Perfume…?” Korekiyo let out a few more coughs, clearing his throat to prevent any others following.

“Ugh, no. It smells and looks like it, but it’s my handmade Lucky Bride potion. It’s going to prevent you from chickening out of the wedding, and bless you afterwards for a long time to come.”

“Bless me?”

“Yeah, so things don’t go too sour after you’re fake married. And since you’re stuck with Ouma, you’ll need as many blessings as you can get your hands on.”

“Oh, yes, I certainly wouldn’t know what to do without—” Korekiyo’s snide comment was cut off by Himiko spraying even more perfume potion in his face, coughing more of it out as he lowered it with his hand. “That’s plenty, thank you, Yumeno-san.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll tell everyone you’re on your way, so don’t be late.”

“I’ll be right there. Are you sure you’d prefer not to keep your hat off? It doesn’t exactly pair well with formal attire.”

“And cut my mana down just because of one day? I don’t think so. If the spell I put on my doves to keep them steady were to wear off, that’d be on you.”

Himiko saw herself out, leaving Korekiyo by himself again. The veil was thankfully thin, so seeing through it proved hardly difficult. Any issues were all on the inside anyways, only comforted from stress’ chokehold by a muttered mantra. _It will never be love; none can give you it but her (me)_. His heart rested easy hearing the words, happy it hadn’t just lost what filled its void and sustained it.

The show must go on. Punctuality was key, and everyone was waiting.

* * *

In the gym decorated with white banners, rows of folding chairs, floor covering and bushels of counterfeit flowers, the other students entered in their best attire. Kaede, hair put into a curled bun and clad in a sleek pink gown alongside matching wrist-length gloves, resumed playing a simple melody alongside Shuichi, wearing his finest pinstripe vest, dress shirt, and formal pants. Anytime he winced at a bad note played by accident, Kaede quietly told him to relax and roll with it so it could become a part of the melody. Near them were Kiibo and Miu, the latter proudly showing off her short burgundy keyhole dress showing a bit too much cleavage, but otherwise paired well with her chestnut gladiator stiletto boots.

“My head feels like it weighs a ton,” Kiibo winced, fighting against picking at his overly-gelled white hair by forcing both hands to his tuxedo coat. “If my hair would just stay down on its own, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Nobody said you had to priss up your hair. That much lube goes downstairs, not up,” Miu said, ruffling Kiibo’s locks back into a messier version of his normal style. “There we go! Good as new!”

“Miu! Oh, now how am I gonna fix this? It looks like a twister hit me.”

“Brush it up a bit if you’re really that worried about it, but you don’t need to change a ton. If Mr. and Mrs. De-Pussy can walk around with idiot hair, who’s to say you can’t wear it better?”

“It really looks okay?”

“Sure does!” Miu slapped Kiibo on the back, eliciting a raspy wheeze. “Weddings are all about showin’ your stuff without one-up’ing the guests of honor. Though, that’s already out the window with me here. Kinda inevitable.”

“Is Shinguuji-kun here yet, by the way? Kokichi isn't the most patient person I know.”

“He can wait his ass a little longer! For all we know, Shitguuji’s gotta be strokin’ it one last time while he’s still able.”

“Or just getting ready?”

“Same thing.”

Sitting on one side of the chairs, Hoshi had already bitten off half his new candy cigarette waiting for the ceremony to start. Although not exactly proud with the fact that he had to get the suit he had on from a “smaller” section of clothes than the others, it was something or nothing at all by the end of it. Looking past Gonta and his “guest” sitting atop his thick shoulder (and unable to help himself from smiling a bit seeing its little black top hat and bowtie), he saw Kaito surprisingly arrive, black pants and shoes going with the suit coat worn more like a cape instead of through his arms. His hair looked as though some effort was made to tame it, but ultimately gave up in the end and let it do what it wanted.

“You actually came,” Hoshi pointed out, getting the other’s attention.

“Didn’t really have anything else on the agenda, so I might as well have,” Kaito admitted. “But! I’m happy to say I didn’t come alone! Now presenting, my stellar plus-one!”

He gestured proudly to the even more unexpected Maki, dressed in a scarlet spaghetti strap dress falling at her knees contralateral to the thigh slit and black tights with even darker pumps. Ankle length sable hair was put up in an updo, kept together using one of her scrunchies. “I only got roped into this because he wouldn’t leave me alone,” she insisted, arms folded defiantly. “Strange, considering he was doing nothing but protest the whole thing to begin with.”

“People can easily have a change of heart. If I’m gonna go to this, I might as well come with one of my trusty sidekicks! Especially the one that looks amazing in a red dress.”

Maki tugged at her dress strap in place of her pigtail, a pink cheek puffing stubbornly from the compliment. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Let’s just get it all over with.”

“So far, so good,” Hoshi said. “Everyone’s just mingling until the main event starts, so you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“He said it best, Harumaki!” Kaito cheered, dragging her over to Shuichi and Kaede to see if they could spare a few minutes to chat. “Let’s go meet up with some of the others.”

“Wah! Himiko-chan, you look just precious!” Tenko cooed after the shorter girl met back up with her and Angie, taking a moment to glare viciously at any boys passing by in case they had less-than-wholesome intentions before resuming her previous doting. “I know red’s more your color, but leave it to you to make baby blue work just as well!”

“Thanks. You, uhh, look nice, too,” Himiko mildly praised, sizing up Tenko’s two-piece purple dress, white stockings over gray flats, and lilac pinwheel ribbon tying together her braided high ponytail. “Never took you to like purple.”

“Oh, err— it’s not really my color, but if you really like it, I could wear it for you more often?”

“Nah, that’s fine.” Himiko got a good look at Angie, who didn’t appear noteworthy save for the odango hairstyle she put her hair in for the day. “What are you wearing, Angie? Just those weird robes?”

“Yeah, I get you’re the officiant and all, but it’s only for a little bit. Didn’t you bring something else?”

“Don’t either of you worry too much about me,” Angie reassured them, opening her robes to reveal the flowy peach dress underneath before closing it all back up. “Everything’s all where it should be. That way, there’s no need for me to run off and change.”

“At least you thought outside the box and saved time. And! Now, you won’t have to worry about being followed into the changing rooms by any peeping toms trying something! If they still do, let me know.”

“Hey, Wicked Witch of the West,” Ouma called out, drawing Tenko’s ire to him alongside Himiko’s annoyance. “Any word on Kiyo-chan? Cold feet? Ran off with someone else?”

“For the last time, he’s coming,” Himiko groaned. “Just wait a little longer.”

“I did my waiting! Ceremony’s supposed to start any minute, and my uniform’s chafing!” Ouma flapped his favorite dictator’s cape around like a testy child, Himiko swatting it down to fall back to the black military-esque tunic over matching pants and low-rise boots.

“Gah! Of all the things to wear to a wedding, and he picks a cape…”

“He said he’ll take it off for the reception,” Rantaro informed her, neglecting to mention the lengthy bartering session that led to the compromise.

“Assuming it even comes! I can’t exactly marry myself,” Ouma griped.

“Could have fooled me considering his ego’s more inflated than a balloon…” Tenko scoffed with a sneer.

“Kiyo will be here sooner than you think,” Rantaro reassured Ouma, fixing the shorter boy’s hair a bit so it looked nice enough for presentation. “Before you know it, you’ll be getting to the ‘I do’s’ and things will go a lot smoother from there.”

“Preferably before I’m dust in the wind. Maybe you could throw that everywhere instead of rice when we’re all done waiting—”

“—Bride’s here! Places, everyone!” Himiko announced, shutting the door she’d just peered out of.

“See? What’d I tell you?” Rantaro said, following Ouma to their spot at the front of the aisle.

When everyone was fully seated or standing where they should have been, Himiko pried open the doors and revealed the other honorable guest. Korekiyo’s face was covered by the veil, but his unusual radiance still shone through in his pearly white gown and heeled shoes. Normally loose hair was styled finely as a curled upper ponytail and a double-braid crown where the veil’s tiara sat pinned inside. In his gloved hands shaking slightly with each step, the bouquet of paper roses completed the look perfectly. Shuichi and Kaede’s music played alongside Kiyo’s walk down the flower petal-coated aisle runner, everyone watching in varying levels of awe the closer he got to the decorated arch sitting over the front of the gym.

“You lucked out, Kichi,” Rantaro teased. “Don’t you think Kiyo looks amazing in white?”

“Uh-huh…” Ouma uttered rather dazed, unable to take his eyes off the approaching anthropologist.

“Don’t look so stumped that you forget to push the veil back. Which you need to do right… now.”

When Ouma turned again, Korekiyo had arrived at the other side of the altar where Kirumi had been standing, recomposing himself to hide how much of a loop he’d been thrown for. “Hmph! About time you showed up. I was just about to send out reinforcements to hunt you down and drag you here myself.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Korekiyo dismissed, letting Ouma push the white veil over his head to reveal his face. “You look dashing, I must say.”

“Tell me something that’s new. You, uhh… eh. You look okay, I guess. Maybe you’d get a better result if you took your weirdo kink mask off for once.”

“You know I cannot and will not. Trust me; we will proceed just fine with it.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” Ouma clapped twice, pointing to Angie. “Yonaga-chan, let’s get this show on the road!”

“With pleasure,” Angie agreed, putting her hands together and lowering them before going to carry on with the readings. “Friends, lovers, children of Atua. We gather here in Hope’s Peak Academy’s sole gymnasium to unite two classmates eternally and tightly bound for just as long. A very odd, highly unlikely pair they are, but surely one to prosper together no less. They may now recite their nuptial vows and seal it all together officially.”

“Me first, me first! I stayed up for days putting mine together!” Clearing his throat, Ouma began. “To start, I’m not exactly that keen on saying any mushy old vows; they’re super boring to have to come up with and recite to so many people. Like giving some stupid oral report! So, I’ll keep it brief and not keep us here forever. My beloved Kiyo-chan is, to put it shortly… unique. It’s not everyday you meet someone looking like he was born in the netherworld, and yet can actually hold a conversation that doesn’t make anyone wanna blow their brains out from wasted time.

“He’s creepy and a weirdo who stalks people to get information on them, but really, sometimes there’s things you have to get out of anyone that looks pretty suss. Korekiyo does it for nerd purposes, but at least it’s fun hearing him share it all with me. I actually can’t name that many times I can honestly say he’s bored me.” Ouma’s face lacked any emotion after saying so, just as quickly reverting back to the usual boyish smile as he took one ring from the pillow Kiibo offered and slipped it on Kiyo’s finger. “So, hey, even if all of this is a big ol’ sham, I could at least say for sure I picked a good one to do this with if it weren’t. Yadda, yadda, I do, and take you, Shinguuji Korekiyo, to be my not-lawfully wedded pretend husband. And, if he wants, _maybe_ my second-in-command.”

“Excellent!” Angie rooted. “And now, if Kiyo is still in agreement with this union, he may take the time to recite his vows. Go ahead.”

“Very well,” Korekiyo agreed. “There are many things to say of you, Kokichi. You are strange, you are mischievous to the point where it’s headache-inducing, and above all, you prove to be the greatest enigma I’ve ever met. Try as I may at picking every bit of you apart, I wind up always having much more to learn by the end of it. And yet, it’s no less the primary source of your true beauty that makes you just as interesting to be around as you say I am.

“But, I don’t want you thinking I’m only around you for my personal, academic gain. That might have been it initially, but over enough time, I’ve truly come to see you far beyond that as a worthy, yet highly unforseen companion with sides of you I’d have never expected. Ones I’ll keep to myself, lest you throw a fit from me ‘exposing’ any vulnerability. This union may be a farce, but what I have with you outside of it couldn’t be more genuine.” Korekiyo accepted the other ring from Kiibo, carefully sliding it onto Ouma’s correct finger. “With that, I humbly take you, Ouma Kokichi, to be my faux-husband as well. In sickness and in health, I am ever at your side.”

“And now that the nuptial vows have been officially spoken and the rings have been exchanged in the process, in the name of our one and only Lord, I now hereby pronounce you husband and husband. Atua smiles from ear-to-ear upon your blesséd unity.” Angie snapped out of her self-proclaimed message deliverance from the divine to remember the last part of the pronouncement. “Oh! You may also now kiss the bride.”

Korekiyo grew somewhat rigid hearing that, unsure of how he’d go about it without feeling unfaithful. On the one hand, it was tradition and he wasn’t too keen on the thought of going against marital customs and missing out on the full experience. But, his other hand was saying everything else wrong with the kiss, none having personally to do with Ouma as a person. He looked at the smaller boy preparing his mouth with breath spray— did he really intend to go through with a kiss? It would be sealing the deal and making it seem as authentic as possible. Perhaps looking at things from an actor’s perspective would soften the blow so no one got hurt in the end.

Deciding to use that as a means to differentiate it from a true kiss, Korekiyo unzipped his mask and leaned down to Ouma’s level, breaking the distance with a union of their lips. Ouma’s eyes flung open stunned the minute the contact was made, staying perfectly still for a few moments before melting into it and kissing in return to Kiyo’s own surprise. For reasons he wasn’t aware of, the anthropologist didn’t argue and kept at it for moments longer, massaging Ouma’s lips with his own before the two broke free amongst the cheers and applause of their classmates.

“I… take it you must have been practicing before this?” Korekiyo at last spoke, quickly zipping up his mask and getting no response. “...Kokichi? Hello?”

“He looks a little out of it,” Rantaro chuckled, helping out the stunned frozen and tomato red Ouma from the altar. “I guess he wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss him.”

“Well, it’s customary for the two being wed to do so. I was only trying to keep tradition strong.”

“If that’s true, does that mean upholding the term ‘blushing bride’ is part of it, too?” Rantaro gestured to the deep reddish color in Kiyo’s face where his mask wasn’t covering anything.

“I— it isn’t an implication of anything you might be thinking. It’s simply from how many emotions weddings tend to spark in most people is all.”

“Since you wanna go with that, I’m not stopping you. The reception’s in the dining hall, so why don’t we get going there?”

“That sounds splendid— oh, hold on. I nearly forgot about this.” 

On his way out after Himiko released her cage of doves flying in an organized flock, Korekiyo tossed the paper rose bouquet behind him to anyone willing to catch it. A good handful of the girls noticed it and scrambled past everything in their path (including some thrown or kicked away boys thanks mostly to Tenko) to be the one to grab it first. In spite of the hands making a reach for it, the bouquet went bouncing off somewhere else from the group of white birds running by it in mid-air and getting knocked much further. Where it wound up landing to the surprise of some was in the open palm of a perplexed Maki while she was in the middle of conversing with Kaito, Shuichi, and Kaede.

“Oooh! Maki, you just caught the bouquet!” Kaede beamed. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t mean anything because they’re not real flowers,” Maki bit. “And, no one actually got married.”

“No, but that’s no reason not to treat it like one. And in that case, you know full well what tends to happen to whoever catches the bride’s bouquet.”

“I know. I don’t need you telling me the obvious.”

“What’s the deal?” Kaito asked.

“Because Harukawa-san caught the bouquet, it’s a sign she’s next to get married in the future,” Shuichi informed him.

“What? Really?!” Kaito coughed. “Well, I’d say someone’s a very lucky lady today, huh?”

“Do you wanna die?” Maki snarled, gripping the flowers to point at Kaito menacingly.

“...Do you wanna get married?”

That caught Maki off guard, calming down and only looking huffy without looking directly at Kaito. “...We’re too young to think about that, you idiot. Don’t go rushing into it.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Kaede cooed. “Would you wanna get married someday, Shuichi?”

“Me and you?!” Shuichi squeaked, just as flustered as Maki. “Well, maybe not necessarily us if you weren’t implying that— unless you want to. Then, I wouldn’t mind, no.”

Kaede giggled. “Don’t worry. Like Maki said, we have all the time in the world to think on it.”

“Yeah… we really do, huh?” Shuichi smiled at the thought, hoping all went well enough for it to have the chance at coming true on some future day.

* * *

All the students moved to the reception in the dining hall, which was decorated beforehand for that exact occasion. Tables were draped with white cloth and those not set aside for the guests were covered in assorted foods, beverages (aside from the punch, which had its own personal section and needed to be kept away from Miu’s spiking clutches at all costs), plastic flutes and goodies. One table was designated specially for the triple-tier angel food cake neatly decorated in white frosting, roses of purple and olive, and a custom topper depicting Ouma and Kiyo in a similar, yet less startled pose than the photo Himiko gave Angie for a reference. The center of each guest table had a vase full of a few flowers, lights strewn up along the dining hall beside the cloth banners.

“Make sure you get the biggest slice possible! I want first dibs on Mom’s yummy baking skills!” Ouma encouraged, standing behind Korekiyo and guiding his knife-holding hand to the lowest tier on the cake.

“I’d be more than happy to make the first cut, but must I be blindfolded for this?” Korekiyo asked, picking at the checkered scarf around his eyes. “I’m not hitting a piñata.”

“Unfortunately not because Kirumi-chan doesn’t like fun, but yes! Because it’s more fun not knowing what you’re gonna cut. It might be cake, but it also might be someone’s finger.”

“I’m taking it off, then.”

“Kidding, kidding! I’m not taking my hand off until you’ve got a slice. This is a new custom to show how much the newlyweds are able to have each other’s back.”

“I’ve never heard of such a tradition, but if you’re so insistent, it wouldn’t hurt to add it to my research.” With Ouma’s help, Kiyo moved his hand down and make the first incision, thankful to take the blindfold off and see he’d only cut a reasonable slice of cake. “Is that plenty?”

Ouma tied his trusty checkered scarf back around his neck in place of the cape he agreed to leave off. “Eh, it’ll do. I’ll just go back and get more later.”

“Be sure not to fill up too much on cake. You’re plenty hyper as is, and I’d hate for you to get a stomach ache all in one sitting.”

“I’ll live, worrywart! Cake’s not just good for the stomach, it’s—!” Ouma raised his hand holding the cake slice plate, only for Kiyo to smash it against his face to protect his own. “Gah! Wh— hey! No fair!”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Kokichi. I may not be able to predict everything you do, but I’d be a fool not to anticipate you trying to smear cake on me.”

Ouma pouted, scraping off the cake and wiping it on Korekiyo’s forehead. “Circle of life, Kiyo-chan.”

Korekiyo was stunned for a moment, grabbing a nearby napkin and cleaning the mess off. “I see you bounced back rather well from our kiss back there. You looked as though you were a deer frozen in the headlights and as red as the aftermath.”

“What, you mean that? I was only playing the part as a groom who’s all lovestruck and just had his first wedding kiss! A fine case of flawless acting to really sell it.”

“But, that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Probably! Probably not at the same time. Who knows, and who cares?”

“Everyone! It’s time for the best man to make his speech and wedding toast,” Kirumi announced, serving the mocktails needed for it.

“Oh, we’d best be going to listen,” Korekiyo informed Ouma. “Amami-kun deserves our undivided attention.”

“Hey, no need to tell me twice,” Ouma agreed, going over and sitting with Kiyo at a special table closest to the podium. “Ran-chan’s gotta have something juicy in store!”

“Would you all give a welcoming hand for the best man, Rantaro Amami,” Kirumi announced, presenting the green-haired boy in question going up with his plastic flute glass.

“Thanks, Toujou-san,” Rantaro said, clearing his throat. “I wasn’t sure exactly which to write a speech for, so I settled on both to keep things easy. For Kiyo, I say you’re pretty unusual inside and out, but also not really a bad guy once you get to know enough. You’re also really formal and great at going into detail whenever you're explaining things, whether they’re related to anthropology or not. As for you, Kokichi, you’re almost in the same department. Pretty tough to swallow and keep up with all at once, but your energy’s kinda refreshing in a way when it doesn’t get out of hand. And, on top of that, I don’t think you’re too-too bad deep down. You just seem really good at hiding it.”

“Ha! Oh, Ran-chan, such a card!” Ouma laughed. “I told you his speech would be good, but a bonus joke makes it better!”

“I don’t believe he wasn’t being anything except serious,” Korekiyo argued. “There’s no reason he’d lie in such an important speech—”

Ouma pressed a finger to Kiyo’s mask and lowered his voice down to a whisper. “—Shhh! Keep the yammering down, chatterbox! It’s rude to talk over someone!”

“Now, on the two of you together,” Rantaro continued. “I gotta say, I never expected you guys to come this far. Then again, you proved lots wrong by being friends in the first place, so I can’t really say anything surprises me anymore. You do make each other happy in your own way, and I hope for years to come, that doesn’t go anywhere.” Rantaro held up his mocktail, everyone else joining in with theirs. “Today on such a fine day, I raise a toast to you guys! We’ll see where this crazy road takes us, but it’s bound to be a great one.”

Most of the others applauded and cheered, Kiyo taking a humble bow beside Ouma. “Thank you for your best wishes, Amami-kun,” he said. “Your faith in us mayn’t predict anything, but it’s truly admirable to hear such a genuine speech.”

“Does that mean we gotta kiss again?” Ouma asked, spraying more breath spray on his tongue. “It is a wedding, after all.”

“Once is plenty, thank you. Don’t oversell it.”

“Fine, but you’re missing out. Can I at least offer my new ‘husband’ our first dance?”

Korekiyo looked at Ouma’s hand waiting to be taken, weighing any consequences that could befall it and finding none before accepting it. “I suppose it’s harmless enough. I won’t be doing anything vigorous, as I’m still wearing heels and have no intention of going barefoot in public.”

“Chillax, even if I wanted to, it’d just be for today. You only have one wedding per person.”

“Well, there is such a thing as getting remarried or renewing your vows. But, I don’t expect either to happen once you go through with however you plan to split us up.”

“Assuming I do. I could have easily been lying about doing that part, and you’d never know. But, on the other hand, I could also just cut your head off like Henry VIII did to his wives.”

“I’m already deeming that part a lie, too.”

“Correct! Besides, I can’t do any of this for real in the future if you’re running around like a headless chicken.”

Kiyo turned his head, colored surprised. “Don’t tell me you actually intend to marry me when we’ve graduated.”

“Okay, I won’t. You’ll have to find that one out yourself. But, I will tell you we might have to get new rings. I think I overheard Miu say to Kiibo that she put in ‘something special’ that I’m obviously not using.”

“I knew it was too good to be true. I’ll gladly help you give her an earful, then we’ll dispose of these as soon as we can.”

“First things first, though. Let’s put the dance floor to good use.”

Korekiyo went with Ouma the rest of the way to the exact space left away from the tables meant for mingling and jamming along to the music. Some of their other classmates were already joining them, but keeping enough of a reasonable berth so the main two could have enough room to enjoy a dance together without anyone in the way. It’d be a long while before any of the festivities, let alone the reception, would come to a close, but all of if was certainly worth the extra time.

As Ouma took the initiative of leading the dance, Kiyo found he had little left to complain of. There was a chance he’d suffer the consequences of his “stage kiss” at the end of the day, but he could always explain the context, swear his loyalty and repent should it be necessary. For the time being, he pulled Ouma towards him and dipped the smaller boy, leaning back up to resume dancing after rending his “husband” nonplussed for a brief moment while their classmates still had the time of their lives alongside them.

Maybe, just maybe, this was Ouma’s latest scheme that worked out its best after all. If it was, it’d been by far a well-received favorite among a surprising vast majority.

**Author's Note:**

> For reasons I'm sure you can all guess (hint: starts with a "q" ends with a "uarantine"), I had more time to finish this than I was expecting, especially among my schoolwork and other writing projects both public and private. But, I still think this came out pretty well. This ship could use a bit more love in it, and I'd be happy to be the one filling the gaps. I'm still also learning to write the other V3 characters since I'm relatively still rusty with DR as a whole since taking a break from it, but I think I've got it more or less down enough.
> 
> Well, that's that, and I'll be seeing you guys on my next published work for sure! I hope you liked this one and I'll have plenty more coming after it! See you guys then!


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